


Perfect Fit

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, M/M, Phone Sex, Underwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He got back to his hotel room, ordered room service, and ate a light dinner, all while wearing the silk, half-hard. Soon he wouldn’t be able to wait any longer; he’d have to jerk off. The thing was, now that he was alone, he found himself thinking about Eames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Fit

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) Round 5 for the square _crossdressing_. Beta'd by [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/pseuds/anatsuno).

What Arthur hadn’t counted on was that he’d have an erection all day.

It had started out as a simple experiment. He had walked past a high-end New York lingerie shop and his eye was caught by a scrap of black silk in the window, wrapped around the hips of a mannequin. Elegant, simple. Feeling impulsive, he walked in, and bought a pair of those same silk bikini-cut briefs, inwardly amused that for all anyone knew, he was buying them for his girlfriend, or wife, or mistress. He hoped his idea of the size he needed was accurate.

The next morning, when dressing for work, he put them on. The silk caught on every rough bit of skin on his fingers. They were tight, but not so tight as to be unbearable. It was a task to get himself into them -- they were definitely not made for his anatomy -- and, well, something about the snugness, the smooth embrace of the silk, made him realize he was going to be at least half-hard all day.

He put on a pair of pants he wore fairly often, a dress shirt, a tie, and a v-neck pullover. While he finished getting ready to leave, the feeling of the tight silk brushing against the inside of his light wool pants drove him a little crazy. He probably looked flushed. He could blame it on the cold.

Thankfully, out on the street he was wearing a coat, and could angle his shoulder bag just the right way if needed. The constant rhythmic brushing of the fabric as he walked was maddening. Waiting in line for coffee to go was almost a blessed relief.

At the loft they were using as a makeshift office, he was careful to tug the hem of his pullover down in just the right way after he took off his coat. Well, this was the last day of this job, anyway. Just the debriefing and the payout. If he seemed to be acting oddly, it would be forgotten by the time he worked with anyone on this team again.

The morning stretched on; a dispute arose between the extractor and the architect about the relevance of an aspect of the data they’d extracted. Arthur wasn’t sure whether he was deeply annoyed by their arguments, since the longer they went on the longer it would be until he got out of here, or grateful that they were giving him something else to concentrate on as he patiently tried to mediate.

They broke for a quick lunch; the others went out, after Arthur said he had more paperwork to look through. Alone in the loft, he locked himself in the bathroom to jerk off, then went back to his desk and ate the sandwich he’d brought in his bag.

After that, the rest of the afternoon was easier. Not easy, but easier. Finally, they agreed on payouts and wrapped things up.

He got back to his hotel room, ordered room service, and ate a light dinner, all while wearing the silk, half-hard. Soon he wouldn’t be able to wait any longer; he’d have to jerk off. The thing was, now that he was alone, he found himself thinking about Eames. Truth be told, he thought about Eames a lot, considering he’d never slept with him.

 _I should call him_ , Arthur thought.

It was about midnight in London. Eames was, of course, still awake. He told Arthur he was reading over some papers for his job, and he was glad for the break because he was starting to go cross-eyed. He did sound a bit sleepy. They exchanged careful pleasantries. In the years they’d known each other, they’d only worked together a few times, and had clashed over many things, from the trivial to the insurmountable. Through it all, though, they felt a mutual grudging respect -- and something else. Something that hadn’t been explored.

Eventually, Eames asked something he typically liked to ask Arthur as a light joke, something Arthur had been hoping he’d say this time.

“What are you wearing, darling?”

Arthur replied without hesitation, “Black silk panties.”

There was a long pause.

“You’re having me on. You’ve a terrible sense of humor, Arthur. It’s unkind to tease.” (How Eames could say that with a seeming straight face, even sounding stern, was testament to his skill.)

“I’m not joking.”

“All right, supposing you are wearing... panties. Are you wearing anything else?”

“Yes. Everything I wore to work today.”

“You wore them under your work clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Eames’ voice was lower now.

“I wanted to see how they’d feel.”

“And how did they feel?”

“I’ve been hard all day.”

“You’ve been wearing them all day?”

“Yes. At lunch I had to jerk off, I couldn’t take it any longer.”

Another long pause, and a shaky exhalation. “I don’t suppose you have any filmic evidence of any of this.”

“No.”

Eames laughed low in his throat. “You must be new at this.”

“I just wanted you to think about it.”

“I certainly am thinking about it. I may not be able to stop. Christ, and I’m across the pond.”

“Are you saying you’d do something about it if we were in the same city?”

“Are you saying there’s another reason you called? Arthur, there’s teasing and then there’s waving a sign that reads ‘Come And Get Me.’”

“So come and get me.”

Eames groaned, sounding very pained. “Arthur, you know I’m on a job.”

“Then I’ll come to you. My job ended today.”

“Right, am I to take a day off during mine to attend to you and your choice in knickers? Not that I’m not sorely tempted, mind.”

“No need. You won’t be working at night.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll be getting any rest, either.”

“Probably not. When you pick me up at the airport you can wonder whether I’ve been wearing these for the entire flight.”

“Won’t you have been?”

“That’s for you to determine.”

“Right, I’ll be cornering you and peeling off your black silk knickers straightaway. Christ, Arthur.”

“I guess it’s pretty late there, I should let you go so you can get some sleep.” Arthur rolled onto his stomach and rubbed himself against the bed, almost idly.

Eames scoffed, but there was a grin in his voice. “You know perfectly well I won’t be able to sleep anytime soon.”

“Neither will I. I’ll send you my itinerary.”

“I look forward to receiving it. Arthur, are you sure you don’t want to stay on the line?”

“Why, did you have something to add?”

“Perhaps. Tell me more about your knickers.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What cut are they?”

“Briefs. Bikini.”

“Low cut?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Any embellishments?”

“Uh, none, just plain silk.”

Eames groaned. “I bet your arse looks incredible.”

Arthur rolled over onto his back, and undid his fly.

“Are you moving? Arthur, do you have a hand in your knickers?”

Arthur shifted around a bit. “I do now.”

“Brilliant, your lovely big hand in those wee knickers.” Eames sounded breathless.

It was a tight fit; Arthur wriggled to get the hem down slightly, and gave himself a firm stroke. “Eames, if your hand isn’t in your underwear I’m going to be very disappointed in you.”

“Can’t have that.” Now Eames definitely sounded strained. “Are your knickers all wet, darling?”

Arthur took a deep breath and squeezed himself. “Yeah.”

“Arthur, it is absolutely killing me that I cannot be there to see you, but I have to hear you when you come.”

Eames’ voice saying those words made Arthur’s cock throb, and he made a soft sound in his throat. “You too,” he managed.

It would have been easier if he had lube, but he certainly didn’t want to stop and take the time and effort to get it, and something about the lack of slickness was appealing. He closed his eyes, biting his lip, knowing Eames could hear the change in his breathing as he started to stroke himself faster.

“Arthur,” Eames breathed, “I’m... God, I’m doing my best to picture this as clearly as possible, but as I sadly don’t have any memories to draw from I’m working at a disadvantage.”

“You’ll see me in person soon enough. I’m on my back, my... trousers are undone, the... knickers are half off and I’m jerking it like a teenager.” Arthur swallowed hard.

Eames groaned. “Not that you asked, but my flies are down, I’m leaning back in my chair and I’m also... jerking it like a teenager.”

“Fuck, Eames, I didn’t even stop to find hand lotion or something, God.”

“Oh, do you have any idea how bloody long I’ve--” Eames didn’t finish that, instead making a soft sound in this throat.

“Yeah, me too.” They were both breathing harder now.

“Oh, _fuck_ , oh,” Eames said in almost a whisper, as if to himself.

It should have been odd, Arthur thought, himself in New York in a pair of silk panties talking to Eames in London as they both got themselves off, trying desperately to imagine each other at that moment. But it wasn’t odd at all. Maybe they should have fucked on the first job they were on together. Maybe any of the ones since then, or any time between. Instead of just watching each other and exchanging barbs.

But they hadn’t. They had this, now. They’d soon have more. But for now he listened to Eames breathing hard, the barely audible slick sounds of his hand on his cock. God, calling Eames had been an excellent idea.

“Gonna be making up for a lot of lost time,” Arthur said, and licked his dry lips.

“Yes-- God, I’m close. Please, Arthur, come with me.” Arthur had never heard Eames with quite this tone of desperation in his voice; it sent a renewed throbbing through his cock.

“Yeah, come on. _Eames_ , fuck.” Conscious of a slight quaver in his voice, Arthur let his mouth drop open as he started to pant, his strokes firmer and faster.

“Come all over those knickers for me, darling--” Eames said, and -- Arthur wouldn’t say he _whimpered_ at that, but he did make a sound, and he did come, shuddering.

“Yes, _oh_ ,” and as he worked every bit of come out he forced himself to stop breathing so loudly so he could hear Eames, but he couldn’t help a groan as he pictured him, flushed and panting, those lips of his parted as come coated his fingers.

They were both quiet then, their breathing slowing. Arthur, eyes closed, nearly drifted off, thinking about Eames doing the same.

“Arthur,” Eames sighed, bringing him back to awareness.

“Mm,” Arthur replied, feeling now how hot his face had gotten. He took his hand off his cock, but there was nowhere to wipe it but the silk underwear. He wasn’t sure what to say.

When Eames spoke again, his voice was soft, a bit sleepy. Again, a tone Arthur had never heard before. “I hope you’ll be here as soon as you possibly can.”

“I will,” Arthur replied, still a bit tongue-tied.

“Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night, Eames.”

\-------

Arthur went to the lobby to check out, and was surprised to find that the desk clerk had a large envelope for him, which looked somewhat thick. When he took it, whatever was inside felt soft and lightweight. Not wanting to open it at the desk, he waited until he was in the cab to the airport.

In the backseat, he tore open the envelope to find a small bag from the lingerie store where he’d bought that underwear. These briefs were also black silk, but more delicate, edged with thin lace and adorned with a tiny bow.

Stapled to the bag was a typed note: _Called in a favor. I do hope you like this brand. Wear them on the plane over. -E_

**Author's Note:**

> Now with a sequel: [In My Command](https://archiveofourown.org/works/475231)
> 
> Thanks to anatsuno, Amy, and Liz for all your help!


End file.
